Ever been hit by a snowball to the face? Yeah, it stings. Tell you what else stings? Pulling 70-hour weeks while your mates are out partying, gallivanting the globe, or bingeing on the next must-see Netflix series.
In the not-too-distant past, I was an ambitious 22-year old-who had dropped out of my fourth university degree with about $300 in my bank account. My circle of friends was either backpacking the world dodging responsibility, pissing their wage up the wall on a Saturday night, or working in hospitality, spending their hard-earned cash on full-priced Zimmermann and endless cheese platters. Crazytown.
I, on the (very) other hand, didn’t just drop out of university to go down any of those particularly fun routes. I dropped out of university because I was confused about my future. And so, with no money, no experience and no bloody idea, I decided to start my own business.